


Angela's first steps

by Daarkie



Series: Angela's secret [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:01:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26927803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daarkie/pseuds/Daarkie
Summary: The Voldemort is dead, and so are the others. What will Harry Potter do in order to bring balance to the world once more?
Relationships: Theodore Nott/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Angela's secret [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964761
Kudos: 1





	Angela's first steps

Sometimes life gets an unexpected twist, but it seems like mine will always be the same.

I would be so damn lucky to change the way things are. I mean, boring school, boring life, boring part-time job… Even my boyfriend is boring! And my only solitude? I don’t even have the time to read anymore. What a shame. I used to curl up in the comfy chair or in the bed, hiding behind the most intriguing stories the human mind could come up with. The smell of old books in the air, cocoa on the side table, raindrops lightly tapping at my window as if crying with me for each and every fantastic world I lost, each and every character I had to say goodbye to, each and every last page I had to turn. I had to say farewell, although I thought it's only goodbye at the time. Living in a never-resting city full of people is sure to take its toll, just as school work, a part-time job, and other responsibilities. I miss books so much.

These thoughts are weighing heavily on my mind as I step up from behind the tree. Moon is shining very brightly this evening. Frowning, I take a look at my watch. It's only half-past five. Bloody not-yet-spring-but-not-winter-either weather. Already in a brooding mood - not that I would admit to brooding - I continue taking steps, one by one, towards my flat, annoyed as it gets once the first few raindrops fall down on me.

For real? You've got to be kidding me!

Not having anything with me besides my backpack, I quicken my pace. Annoying season, annoying weather, annoying people. I’ve remembered the main reason for my bad mood; schoolmates never really liked me, that’s for sure, but why did they just have to steal my sweater in THIS weather I have no idea. Or - yeah, of course, I know it seems like the best prank ever, but now I’m freezing for my mum never bothered to buy me a decent winter jacket. Why must life be so cruel?

Despite everything I - quite self-loathingly - smirk. Well, at least not everything is boring. For sure it is not pleasant at all but I have, if nothing else, something which resembles adventure. I know I don’t deserve to be the hero of my life story, so what could I expect?

With these dark thoughts keeping me company, as well as freezing weather creeping through my clothes, I walk to the flat me and my sister own, not really noticing the dark, alien presence watching me.

* * *

I wish I could say I had some strange feeling as I lay down, or that I, regardless of the soft raining sounds, wasn't able to bring myself to sleep. Or even that I noticed something bothering me! But, as it was, I was half asleep already by the time I emerged from the bathroom, simply falling on my bed to near-comatose state.

* * *

*crack*

The loud, awkward, and unsettling noise woke me up. What the...

Quite dizzy and still kind of sleeping I grudgingly open my eyes. I am not, I never was, and I probably never will be the early bird. I am not even a night owl. I am more likely some kind of universally tired pigeon or something. That guy beside my bed is just casually sweeping invisible (considering the darkness) dust from his shoulders. I scratch my head while yawning, ready to search for the source of the noi-

There is a person standing by my bed.

That startles me.

“Kdo sakra jste?!” I must admit I’m so sleepy I am not even scared. I speak up in my native language as any non-Chuck Norris person who can't read the mind or anything.

“Ehm… Excuse me, I don’t speak your language in slightest, to be honest.” apologized the uninvited guest nonthreateningly. He's got a very soothing voice, I say to myself.

"Thank you." Okay, maybe not to myself.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize.” I sleepily wave my hand, answering his first question as well as going over what I said after it. “Who the hell are you and what the heck are you doing here?!” I cry as if just noticing the person standing there. Which I kind of am. I don't think anyone could do much better, in this state of awareness.

“Err… That will take some time, would you like a tea?” he asks calmingly with his overly soothing voice.

I know I am supposed to be scared but… Honestly, I feel more pissed off than scared. He woke me up! Not to mention trespassing. “Get the hell out!”

He answered simply and very politely though with steel I didn't notice the whole time underlining his words. “I am sorry, but I can’t do that. Not until you hear me out.”

My sleepy mind suddenly understands I should be careful. After all, I am alone with him in this flat, he can do anything to me. I jokingly used to say to my psychologist that the worst thing possible was already carved in both my body and memory, but in all honesty, I know I wouldn’t want anything even remotely similar to get into my life again. Therefore, allowing him to take control of the situation seems like the best thing I could do at the moment. For now.

He doesn't do anything.

As I, as small and as non-threatening as I can be, reach for the table lamp near my bed, I can feel his gaze following me. Good, so he knows what I am doing and I will see if he's armed. Dimmed light gives me an idea of what I am against. I study him, while his eyes take a bit longer to get accustomed to the light, for I have its source behind me.

I see a relatively short, thin man with almost unhealthy white skin, dressed in torn dark-red, though seemingly new and fitted, cloak. He's got oversized dark grey pants with dirt and a few wet spots on them, and some sort of black tunic which is almost as long as short dresses. Trail of rain is coming out of his jet black hair reflecting bluish light framing his soft, but still a bit too skinny face. He seems as if something was after him.

At one moment he removes his hand from before his eyes and I am able to see the rest of his face. I notice he has almost unnaturally green eyes, so bright they can quite possibly overshine even a red light on the semaphore. I can’t stop myself from thinking of Harry Potter stories when I see the scar on his forehead. Without my glasses, I can’t see much more.

I shift my weight to reach my glasses which makes him stiffen. He relaxes as soon as he realizes what am I doing. Like a hunted animal, I think to myself. Glasses slide on my nose and now I am able to really see the details in his posture. His eyes seem haunted, he favors his left side, and it seems like there is actually blood on his pants. I watch as his hand dries off the trail of rain on his face.

My mouth is sometimes quicker than my mind. "Are you okay?"

His face gets a bit darker than I expect but he answers me shortly anyway: “No.”

His expression, sad, rather than angry, has gotten me to the point, where I actually want to help him. It might be very stupid of me, but I can not afford not to help someone in need. I was never a believer, I don’t really believe in any gods. That need, that itching to help, was always inside me, it was not that or going to eternal hell. And although I never get anything for my effort, I don’t mind, usually. I know I am weird like that, it’s just the way I am.

And now it means I am getting into potential danger to help him. What a joke. 

“Is there anything I can do to help you? What’s the situation, if you don’t mind telling me?” I ask with a surprisingly strong, yet helpful voice.

He sharply inhales and, seemingly very surprised, takes in the bold kindness. His face relaxes a bit in a few seconds. I am not sure he noticed though.

“Well, I will tell you something that will be hard for you to believe, but for now, let me sit down. I will only fetch a chair now, so don’t be afraid.”

No idea why should I be afraid of him fetching a chair, I simply nod, expecting him to go to the kitchen now, for it is the closest place to get the chair from.

But then a chair suddenly appears in the room. And it’s not even a chair from this flat! He casually sits on the unexpectedly conjured chair, exhausted, from what I can see. He waits for me to calm down since I get a bit uncertain of whether I am still sleeping, or whether there is something else going on.

“I know you are probably confused,” he says, his voice not as tired as he appears, “but magic is real.”

I suddenly feel on edge. Not sure what to do. Of course, I would love to believe in magic and other fantastic things, like real love, soulmates, vampires, or even just real friendship, but at the same time... “Sorry, but I… I think you need to leave. Now.” I experienced it first hand. The great amazing things are only to be read about, in the realm of dreams, in fantastic places. None of this can ever be real, as I understood a long time ago.

He must realize I am in no way amused by his words as he doesn’t go on, instead, he stands up, probably ready to leave. Tears I do not expect at all are starting to prickle in my eyes. Please, just leave already! I think to myself while struggling to breathe. I know I am shaking a bit, but at the same time, I am fighting to keep my dignity, not really listening to the voice in my head. You are such a waste of time! You little bitch, you think he was for real? You can be so naive, these things can never happen, not to someone like you. But no worries, I can keep you around, you ugly pig. Can you stop with these theatrics? You are such a bad actress… I wanted to scream that I am trying to this stupid voice, but at the same time, I had a hard time believing it can be a lie.

Breathe! I try to scream at myself in my head. Breathe! I raise my inner voice. Breathe! 

Sudden touch on my hands brings me to reality. What? When did I close my eyes?

This person, he… He’s still here. Simply looking at me, with no judgment, nor pity in his eyes. Just… Understanding? What the…

“Here. Drink.” He forces a mug into my hands. 

Without thinking or other words, I sip the darkish brown cocoa. It has exactly the right temperature. For a while, I am just savoring the chocolate-like flavor, only to realize it’s after taste is different than what I’m used to.

“Did you spike it?” I ask with a bit of alarm in my voice. Mainly since my fridge contains no alcohol besides the white wine for cooking. Though, this one smells more like a fragrant rum.

He, quite unexpectedly, blushes a bit. “It’s a calming potion.”

I look to the side, still unsure of what to say to that. 

“You should believe me.” He continues, unfazed, “After all, you said you want to help me.”

Great, now he is using my words against me. I should be used to it by now. When was the last time noone used my words against me?

Oh, right, I can’t remember.

“I… It’s just a lot.” I say while cuddling deeper into my bed sheets.

“I understand. There is still some time, just think about it now.”

There are things I cannot explain. Not only the chair, but also his unprecedented kindness. He didn’t laugh at me. He didn’t say anything about my “theatrics” as my mum always called it. Maybe he wants something really badly from me?

But what can someone like me give to the person with magical powers?

Finally, I realize he is giving me a weird look. I can’t help but sigh, hugging the mug in my hands closer. “So, do you need a victim or….? Just so you know, I am not a virgin.” I half-hearty try to joke.

“There are… Many things. Many great things. I need a hero. Can you become one for me?” that question lies in between us, as if he means it. The silence that ensues is so thick I can almost feel it.

I can’t help it. I start laughing. “Me? A hero? Are you sane?” I feel desperate tears rolling down my cheek.

He stays calm when he goes on with his explanation. “You are, as it is, our best bet to win the war before it has a chance to start.”

I stop laughing, only to stop and stare.

“We need you.”

He has to know me. He has to know. He has to. There is no way he would have known the right words to say otherwise. The only words I cannot turn my head away from.  
“Very well… What do you need me to do?” I ask, only a hint of uncertainty hanging on the tone of my voice. Very well indeed…

His eyes are piercing right through me. “Not here. Come with me.”

He really must know he had got me. I never would have thought I could be this obedient just because… Someone needs me.

We need you. The echo in my head was deafening. No one ever really needed me. I wanted to be needed, so badly, although unworthy of such.

And he just single handedly made me come with him. I didn’t even realize what I packed up with me whilst my inside monologue agreed with me that my life is not worth anything at this point. I can very well die, and noone would notice. Why delay the inevitable. And if there is even the smallest chance I can help someone, I have to try.

I don’t dare to think, to hope, that I may, somehow, matter to someone… In the end,

My uninvited guest smiles cheerfully. “Ready?”

I can only nod.

Sometimes life gets an unexpected twist, and it seems like mine will never be the same.

**Author's Note:**

> As English is not my native language, and as this is my first work, I apologize for any mistakes in the story (be it grammar or other) beforehand. I also welcome any comments and suggestions. I will write most probably very slowly, so if this work catches your eye, don't hesitate to ask if I am still alive :) I might even answer! Also, rape in this work is only implied, but I added the warning, just to be sure.
> 
> PS: I planned this to be really long, so I really appreciate any support you can give me.
> 
> Thank you! <3


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